


Ship Wars

by majel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 10.05, Fanfiction, M/M, Sam Ships It, Ship War, bad fake fanfiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 16:21:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7721623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majel/pseuds/majel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Throughout his life Dean had encountered numerous uncomfortable situations. Those include and are not limited to: Being torn apart by hellhounds, nearly drinking the blood of your girlfriends kid while being a vampire, being beat up by naked fairies, taking part in a fake Japanese game show, being tortured in hell, talking to a pigeon and barking at a mailman on the same day, dying countless times on a single Tuesday, and turning into an actual Demon. Listening to his brother loudly reciting, a Destiel fanfiction, upon entering the kitchen, was definitely the worst though.</p><p>When Sam discovers there is more to Destiel than the brief encounter they had with the phenomenon during the Supernatural musical he immediately throws himself into excessive internet research on the matter. To Deans despair he thinks it’s hilarious and uses every opportunity to share his discoveries. While Dean would just like to not think about this ever again and struggles with the emotional rollercoaster the fan works are causing he is not going to let Sam intimidate him. Two can play this game and Dean sees his only chance in fighting fire with fire. This leaves the bunker as the battlefield to the strangest war it has seen so far. A ship war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ship Wars

**Author's Note:**

> Set after 10.05 in an obviously "slightly" alternating future. 
> 
> So this is it. My first attempt at a multichapter story. This was supposed to be a tiny little Destiel Story and then it totally got out of hand.
> 
> UPDATE: There is some seriously breathtaking and brilliant artwork to this story by [thefriendlypigeon ](http://thefriendlypigeon.tumblr.com/)now hat can be found [here](http://thefriendlypigeon.tumblr.com/post/149833652099/castiel-and-dean-from-supernatural-doing-destiel). I'll also add it to the end of the chapter but please make sure to check out her tumblr and leave her some love too.

It started out innocently enough.

“I don't understand,” Sam said, looking genuinely confused.

“Me neither.”

The whole “exploring the nature of 'Destel' in Act Two"- thing was something Dean couldn’t quite wrap his head around. Kids these days did get seriously funky ideas. If someone were to ask him, those girls needed a decent hobby. Like sports or crafting. Something that did not involve making up fake, disturbing relationships featuring fictional characters. Or in this case not-so-fictional characters.

“I mean,” Sam continued, drawing his brows together in confusion, “shouldn't it be … Deastiel?”

“Really?” Dean frowned. “That's your issue with this?”

Because this sure wasn't as fucked up as the “Sam-Dean-ship”- incident but still, it gave him a sour feeling. These girls seriously seemed to believe he was up to all sorts of gay “subtext” with Cas.

Sam, of course, did not have the decency to back him up about this. Instead, he smirked at him and continued, “No, of course it's not my issue. You know, how about Sastiel? Samstiel?”

Dean just knew he was never going to hear the end of it. “You know what? You're gonna do that thing where you just shut the hell up. Forever.”

Which naturally Sam didn't.

“CasDean?”

Dean glared at him, willing him to shut up. He was not going to discuss some made up, gay relationship he was supposedly having with an angel – or any other person.

“Shut your face”, he ordered and, not waiting for Sam to answer, continued, “Get in the car!”

He appreciated they were talking again, but if Sammy was going to add one more thing about this topic, he could goddamn walk back to the motel.

 

It was a couple of days later, when Dean had already pushed the whole incident into a faraway corner of his mind, that Sam brought it up again.

He had been absentmindedly browsing the web on his phone, while his brother was idly typing away at his laptop, when their quiet evening was interrupted by a loud gasp.

“What?” Dean asked raising his eyes from the cat-video he was currently watching.

There was an excited grin on his brothers' face, which instantly made Dean tense up. It was exactly the face Sam made when he had dredged up those old pictures of Dean's long-haired phase at Bobby's house.

Sitting up straighter, he tried to inconspicuously get a glimpse at the screen, but Sam just grinned wider while closing his laptop and putting it on the table.

“Oh, you are so not gonna like this.”

“What is it?”

“You know that Destiel idea-” And at this point, Dean was indeed certain that no, he was not going to like this, and he let out a frustrated sigh, as Sam continued, “- the one about the subtext those musical girls had. Seems like it's not so much of an uncommon thing in the _Supernatural_ fandom.”

Dean knew the face he was making, and it was probably exactly the reaction his brother was aiming for. Usually, he wouldn't fall for this and would just brush it off with some kind of snide comment, but he couldn't help but helplessly blink a couple of times until he plainly stammered something that sounded like, “What?”

“Well, seems like you guys have your own kind of fan community. And believe me, it's not small. They even have special Destiel blogs where they discuss your relationship throughout the books and post pictures and stuff.”

Dean pretty much choked on his own saliva. Clearly, the world hated him. There was no other reasonable explanation why things like this kept happening to him. Forty years in Hell, a trip to Purgatory and various attempts at saving the world had apparently not been enough to redeem himself.

“That's just... That's really sick!” he shouted, getting up on his feet. “Those people-” But he didn't have words that could accurately express his feelings regarding this situation so he settled on, “It's not enough we get our personal lives used for public entertainment. No, we are getting used for their own kind of …. I don't know what this is. Kinky fantasies or whatever!”

Sam raised his hands in defense, but the smug grin was still firmly plastered onto his face. He was clearly enjoying himself and Dean had to fight the urge to throw a good punch in his direction. That would probably not benefit their regrowing relationship.

“Oh come on Dean! It's pretty hilarious and kinda cute, don't you think?”

“Cute?” He couldn't believe he was hearing this.

“Yeah. Those people, they look at our fucked up life and what sticks out to them is love. That's kinda nice, isn't it? Like look at this -”

“SAM!”

His brother was about to reach for his laptop, but his hand stopped just short of actually touching the device, awkwardly hanging around midair before being pulled back. Sam raised his head, a questioning look on his face.

Dean gave him one of his “don't-you-even-dare”-looks, and, because he's Dean Winchester and once he's raged up he might as well get it all out, continued shouting, “I don't care how these people get their weird ideas. And I most definitely don't want to know any of the stuff they put up on the internet. So how about we don't mention that gay bullshit ever again?”

But Sam just got up and looked like he got handed some kind of Holy Grail or something. He gave him a look that probably meant something along the line of “You are overreacting and being a stupid, ignorant prick and this is not over yet” and Dean was seriously getting annoyed at this point.

“It's not like they are that far off. It actually makes kinda sense when you think about it. They only know what's in the books. You know,” he teased, “with your whole ‘Dean and I do share a more profound bond’ thing and personal space issues … one could assume some kind of gay context.”

Dean flinched, fists clenched together as he stared at his brother. Who was enjoying himself, Dean knew but god forgive him if he was about the ram his ridiculously long-haired head into that table. And because he couldn't deal with any more of this shit and he was not going to break his brother's skull today, he simply turned around and stormed out of the room.

Unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough to miss the shouted, “Even Meg called him your boyfriend remember?”

 

Dean slammed the door to his bedroom shut, drowning out any more shouting his brother might be getting up to. He tiredly slumped down onto his bed, the memory foam gently welcoming his back.

This could not be happening. He could not believe this was actually his life. Stupid prophets and _Supernatural_ books be damned. Dean covered his eyes with his palms, applying gentle pressure until he could see colorful spots dancing along his vision.  

He didn't even know why this was bothering him so much. They had seen worse stuff already. For god’s sake, he had pretty much walked in on Becky Rosen writing pornographic, and clearly incestuous, fanfiction back in the day; now that he thought about it, he wondered if that ever made it into the books. People had always been assuming stuff about Sam and him. These days that didn't even make him react with as much as an eye roll.

Dean also knew sometimes people assumed about Cas and him, too. Like when they were sitting too close in a diner booth or when Dean ordered a second spoon for his dessert because he knew Cas enjoyed trying food even though it tasted like molecules. And he was mostly okay with it because whatever. Those people could assume whatever they wanted. It wasn't like their opinion mattered.

Somehow this “Destiel”-thing was different. These people publicly plastered the internet with their assumption that Dean Winchester somehow was secretly gay (or whatever) and in love with his friend for anyone to see. Literally anyone could stumble across this while looking him up.

Dean let out a shaky breath, silently hoping that Cas never ever got the idea to actually Google anyone of them. Or worse, that Metatron had come across any of this weird fiction before he passed his knowledge onto Castiel. Dean would never know how to live down that embarrassment.

As he stared at the ceiling, he desperately tried to keep his mind empty of any more of those thoughts. Naturally, that left him even more focused on the topic, his thoughts circling back and forth around the question whatever gave them the idea in the first place.

It wasn't like his relationship to Cas wasn't special. He knew it was and maybe they've had some chick-flick moments over the years, but that didn't give anyone the right to just shove a label onto them. Especially when he hardly had the chance to define what the fuck they were himself. Of course, whatever it was had been building up for years, and he knew they had both been awkwardly shuffling around each other ever since they met, but it wasn't like their life usually offered them the time to figure that kind of stuff out.

Dean wasn't dumb. He knew his relationship to Cas was different than his to Sam. And he knew, despite everything that happened between them, the angel meant a hell of a lot to him. You didn't spend a year in Purgatory when there actually wasn't some kind of more profound bond. And yeah, maybe Dean secretly was referring to Cas as his angel in his head, and yeah, they kind of got into the other's space more than strictly necessary and accidentally bumped into each other more than normal people. But that didn't mean he was gay. He would definitely know if he was gay and suddenly got the hots for his best friend. Wouldn't he?

Pulling his pillow over his head, Dean let out a rather frustrated sigh.

 

Dean must have been dozing because the buzzing of his phone pulled him back to consciousness. He pushed the pillow of his face, fumbling for the device. The brightness momentarily blinded his eyes when he pressed the button to light up the screen. There was one single message from Sam.

“You know, if I remember correctly, Balthazar assumed Cas was in love with you, too.”

Dean starred and the phone buzzed again.

“Time to come out of the closet. Dinner's ready, you moron.”

Another buzz.

“Stop sulking, Dean.”

He groaned, drawing the pillow back over his face.

 

Throughout his life Dean had encountered numerous uncomfortable situations. Those included, but were not limited to: being torn apart by hellhounds, nearly drinking the blood of his girlfriend's kid while being a vampire, being beat up by naked fairies, taking part in a fake Japanese game show, being tortured in Hell, talking to a pigeon and barking at a mailman on the same day, dying countless times on a single Tuesday, and turning into an actual demon.

Listening to his brother loudly reciting a Destiel fanfiction, upon entering the kitchen the next morning, was definitely the worst, though. The words his brother’s mouth was forming – and seriously, how could he even say that with a straight face? - must be the trashiest piece of literature Dean had ever heard. Standing in the doorway, Dean immediately felt filthy.

Sam was beaming, even while staring at his phone. He jumped on his feet dramatically, adding gestures with his unoccupied hand.

“Castiel cautiously moved his hand towards him. 'Dean’, he whispered. The blond haired man audibly swallowed and stared at Cas, his big green orbs sparkling in the dimly lit motel room.”

His brother used the pause to look up and shoot him an evil grin and even had that nerve to wink. Dean unconsciously reached for the nearest object, his hand closing around something soft and squishy.

“'C-cas, what are you doing,' he stammered back, his heart beating loudly beneath his tightly clinging shirt. Castiel leaned in and closed his eyes; the world seemed to come to a stop. Dean didn't know if this was truly real. He always dreamed about this moment and-”

There was a loud thud as the orange Dean had been grabbing seconds before smacked into his brother's face.

“What the fuck, man?” he yelled, his arms raised in question.

“Ouch!” Sam was rubbing his chin, looking seriously offended. “What was that for?”

Yeah, Dean thought, as if Sam didn't know that. He glared at him, wishing for a second piece of fruit or maybe a brick.

Sam just laughed and slumped back into his chair, pushing back the strands of hair that were always falling into his face.

“Oh, come on. This is hilarious, Dean! If this was the other way round, you'd be laughing your butt off.”

“You,” Dean said, poking a finger at his Sasquatch of a brother's chest, “are a seriously disturbed person.”

“Maybe. I kill things for a living. Doesn’t make it any less funny.”

Sam grinned and was already looking back at his phone. Dean turned around. It was way too early to deal with this kind of thing.

“Oh, this is a good one, Dean. Listen up,” Sam shouted and Dean literally fled the kitchen. “Cas kissed Dean like there was no tomorrow. His hands were angrily fisting into Dean's shirt and he ripped it off with his angelic power! Dean moaned loudly, aroused by his lover's strength-”

“SAM!” Dean shouted, covering his ears with his hand as he made his way to safety. “You better shut up now or I swear I'm gonna kill you in your sleep. With a spoon!”

 

When Dean retreated back to the safety of his room, his phone was already blinking with a new message. He stared at the bright white dot, contemplating whether or not he should bother checking it. It was probably Sam.

Sighing, he picked it up anyway, switching the screen to his new messages. It was Cas.

_[10:23] Sam messaged you had a case at a high school. I'm glad it turned out alright and you weren't eaten by a scarecrow :)  
[10:23] That would have been rather unpleasant I think._

Dean smiled at the little smiley face and felt a wave of relief rush through him. So Sam hadn't told Cas about the musical part, or at least left out the more awkward bits. Though knowing Castiel, he probably wouldn't even bat an eye at it. He would just stand there blinking and squinting, finally settling on saying something that started with “Dean”. Because the angel always did that: starting sentences with his name and deliberately using it as often as possible, sending little spikes of joy through Dean’s body.

He probably should tell Cas about the musical – and probably the Destiel thing too. It sort of affected him as much as it did Dean.

And then that was what they were doing nowadays: talking.

He really should bring it up, but he felt awkward at the prospect of having to explain the Destiel-affair to his friend, and he wasn't sure he was ready for whatever would happen if they had that conversation. So, he pushed those thoughts back as far as he could, and instead settled on typing: “Yeah me too. That would've sucked.” And on second thought he added, “What're you up to anyway?”

 

A couple of days later Dean was violently shaken awake by the blaring of his phone. He groaned, blinking the sleep away while trying to make out what that noise was. And where the hell it was coming from. It couldn't be his phone. His alarm had been set on “Highway to Hell” for a couple of years now, and whatever this awful sound was supposed to be, it sure as hell wasn't that.

Dean pushed himself up on one arm, glaring at his nightstand. The display of his phone was lit up and it was viciously vibrating and blaring some sort of pop music at anyone who was unfortunate enough to be nearby.

“What the hell,” Dean grunted, reaching out for the device and bringing it up to his face. He stared at the screen.

It was notifying him that this was indeed the alarm he had set yesterday evening. That didn't make any sense, though, because Dean was pretty sure he'd remember if he had changed his alarm to this pop crap. If anything, this sounded like something Sam might listen to when he thought Dean wasn't around to notice.

Dean frowned. Sam. That little shit of a brother. Still staring at his phone, Dean tried to listen more closely, focusing on the song.

_So it's gonna be forever_   
_Or we gonna go back to Hell._   
_You can tell me when it's over_   
_If I was worth the fight._   
_Got a long list of obstacles._   
_They'll tell you I'm insane_   
_'Cause you know I love an angel_   
_And you love a man._

As soon as the meaning of the lyrics hit him, he fumbled for the dismiss button. After some uncoordinated thumb pressing on the screen, the sound broke off and Dean let out a relieved breath. He hadn't even noticed he stopped breathing while listening.

What the hell had that been? Sam's doing that much was obvious. He must have nicked his phone and changed the settings. But where did Sam even get this song? What were the fucking chances someone wrote those lyrics exactly like that and for his stupid brother then stumbled upon it? The song sounded vaguely familiar, but surely he would have noticed if he had heard it before.

Dean navigated to his alarm settings, checking his notification alert. As expected, it didn't say anything like “Highway to Hell” but instead was set on a completely different song: “Taylor Swift – Blank Space – Destiel Fan Edition”.

Dean growled in frustration, realizing this Destiel thing was even bigger than he first anticipated. Now people were even writing love songs about him and Cas. And what was worse, even recording them and putting them online for people to listen to. God, this was worse than the time he'd been afraid of a Yorkshire Terrier.

He buried his face in his pillow and fought back the urge to scream, because that was just something Dean Winchester didn't do. Especially not about a Taylor Swift song.

Actually killing his brother … Well, that was an entirely different thing.

 

Dean didn't kill his brother. Instead he decided to treat the matter according to exactly what it was worth. Nothing. He'd be damned to give Sam the satisfaction of knowing how much this was still bothering him, and, to be honest, he felt a little stupid this was bothering him at all. He would _not_ let Sam trigger him into throwing a fit like in the kitchen. So, he ignored his brother's smugly smiling face when Dean came down for breakfast later that day and he vehemently ignored him all throughout the next day.

In the back of his mind, Dean did realize that sort of gave away that he wasn't all that unaffected by Sam's little pranks and side blows, but he didn't care. He was annoyed and angry and Sam could shove it. If he was being childish by sulking, then Sam was being childish by not letting the matter drop. Dean was fond of their renewed brotherhood and didn't want to ruin it, but if Sam was deliberately acting like a bitch, well, then he could definitely do with some silent treatment.

And it seemed to work anyway, because after Dean had stormed into the kitchen glaring daggers at his brother, Sam had eventually shut up about anything Destiel related. Then there had been a new case just two days after the Taylor-Swift-incident and Dean had figured that would put his brother's mind off the whole thing for good.

Boy, had he been wrong about that. Sam apparently hadn't even started.

 

It started again during the case. Dean, lulled into a sense of security by three days of peace and the fact that they had a case to work, had resumed to talking to his brother beside the most necessary communication and had let his guard down. He wasn't expecting Sam to bring the matter up again and if his mind would have been able to just drop the whole thing, he might even have forgotten about it by now.

As it was, the thought of telling Cas about the musical was still nagging at him, and he was still reflecting on the pros and cons of doing so. Dean had just come back into their motel room and was turning the thought over in his head when his phone gave a certain kind of ding, informing him of a new text by Sam.

They had split up earlier: while Dean had gone to question the witnesses, Sam had wandered off to check the local archives. Expecting an update on the case, Dean brought up the text message.

But it wasn’t an old record or some local lore Sam had texted him. Dean’s eyes widened as he read the words and his mouth hung slightly open in disbelief. This was definitely some weird kind of new, humiliating low. Seriously, what was wrong with the people out there? Did they not know any shame? He was actually starting to question his brother’s sanity for looking at this stuff.

“Seriously, Sammy”, he mumbled as he threw his phone onto one of the beds, “What the fuck?!”

He flopped down onto the worn out couch, fumbling for the remote to turn on some crappy TV. Ignoring the whole thing was the right course of action, he decided. That, and deflection.

_[17:31] waiting for some files to be brought out of the archive. found this. your fans come up with the strangest shit  
[17:32] “After cleaning up the shards the Apocalypse left in Heaven, Castiel returns to Earth to finally face his feelings for his favorite human being. But Dean is living with Lisa now and Castiel has no idea how to approach him. Clueless about what to do, he decides to simply show up on his doorstep one night dressed as piece of cherry pie. Because the way to a man's heart is through is stomach. And Dean has never been known to resist a delicious piece of pie.”_

 

The next message came a couple of minutes later. The notification alert drowned out the stupid action movie that was on TV, and Dean couldn't stop himself from glaring at his phone. It was lying on top of the covers, a little white LED notifying him that there was at least one unread message. The tiny flashing light seemed to be mocking him and he deliberately turned back to the TV.

After successfully ignoring six more text alerts, his curiosity got the upper hand. He got up and gripped his phone. It couldn't hurt to at least check who the message were from. It might not even be Sam. For it all it was worth, it could be Cas trying to contact him, or Sam might even have produced some actual useful information regarding the case. He swiped his thumb across the screen and brought the messenger app back up.

His lips pressed into a thin line while skipping through the words in front of him, and his guts felt hot and twisted. He didn't know what to do or how to process what he just read. He felt blood rushing to his cheeks and his whole face blushing. Oh god, this was just … - No. He should not be reading this. And shit, Sammy should most definitely not be reading this. Actually, scratch that. No one should be reading this and, most importantly, no one should be fucking writing this.

Shaking his head, he tried to get his thoughts straight, and after taking a calming breath, he typed out a single statement as reply: “FUCK OFF.”

He felt like a real considerate adult. He hadn't even used names.

_[17:49] you know this is actually not all bad. its pretty hilarious to be honest_   
_[17:50] “Dean stared at Cas. The costume was … - Well it was unusual, to say the least, but he couldn't deny that Cas looked delicious. And cute. Cas definitely looked cute as a cherry pie. His hair was rumpled as if he had just gotten out of bed and he made those incredibly sweet puppy eyes. Dean’s heart made a tiny little jump in his chest”_   
_[17:50] Thats cute right? like seriously imagine cas in that costume xD_   
_[17:59] well … this kinda stopped being cute. kinda not pg anymore._   
_[18:01] and I actually never needed to picture you guys doing that. Really I did not._   
_[18:01] haha those people know no shame. check this out_   
_[18:02] “Dean took in the pleasure, the joy, of Castiel being so close to him. The feeling and smell filled his whole consciousness and he bent forward placing a soft kiss on the other's neck. He took a moment to steady himself, keeping Cas' hips in front of him in a firm grip. Taking a deep breath, he started to push in slowly, just barely breaching the ring of tight muscle. His heart made a jump and the emotions rushing through him threatened to overwhelm him. The thought of being a part of Cas, of being completely and truly united with him, was too much. He had to close his eyes to drown out all other sensation while he slowly slid in until he was completely buried in the wet, warm heat of the body in front of him.”_

 

Dean stared at the dark ceiling, barely able to make out the shape of the fan above him. Sam was quietly snoring in the bed next to him while Dean was left tossing and turning. Rest just wouldn't come to him.

His brother had sent him a total of seven further text messages. All containing some variant of gay sex that featured him and Cas. All which made Dean feel incredibly uncomfortable. Sam knew, of course, or else he wouldn't have sent the texts in the first place. He probably thought it was fucking hysterical and was enjoying Dean's irritation, assuming Dean was bother by the assumption he was gay...again. But that really wasn't it, was it?

 

Dean Winchester was a grown up adult and had pretty much seen all the bad shit this world had to offer. Being gay wasn't among that. Actually he couldn't care less with whom anyone found happiness. For god’s sake one of his friends had married into a werewolf pack and he himself had not only slept with a fallen angel once, but had also accidentally knocked up an Amazon he picked up in a bar. Who was he to judge? As long as it didn't resolve in hurting, eating, killing or possessing their neighbors, it was none of his damn business what bits and pieces were involved in other people's lovemaking.

Dean sighed and glanced over at his brother, who was thank god oblivious to the thoughts turning in his head. If he was being honest, Dean knew his unease wasn't due to the gay part, but rather the identity of his supposed better half, the assumption that his relationship with Cas wasn't as platonic as it seemed, and, most importantly, the implication that Dean might not have noticed.

 

It was due to fact that his brain had completely short circuited the moment Marie had hinted at the Destiel subtext, because until then the idea hadn't ever occurred to him. So naturally, it must be an insane and ridiculous theory. One he had instantly denied because if it wasn't, then someone – Sam, Cas, hell even just fucking Crowley – would have noticed before some stranger on the internet did.

It was also due to the fact that his feelings got all confused whenever the subject was brought up to him. He was embarrassed by the stuff Sam had sent him, but he had also felt lightheaded and weirdly pleased and Dean didn't have a fucking clue what to make of that. Was he actually attracted to his friend?

Dean tried to picture Cas in that cherry pie costume and had to grin. The mental image was a damn cute one, bordering on hilarious, and if Cas was ever going to wear something similar in real life, Dean probably wouldn't be able to stop laughing for several minutes. They should really try to introduce the angel to some common Halloween traditions this year. That would be pretty damn funny.

Then he tried to imagine them touching - though without the pie costume – and that was easy enough. They did that in real life, too. A clap on the back, a bumping of shoulder, or a friendly hug. Dean had absolutely no problem imagining that. He tried to listen to his inner voice to identify what he was feeling.

Happiness. That wasn't anything out of the ordinary, was it?

Well, time to move up to the real stuff, then. Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine Cas and him doing some of the less than platonic stuff and found himself at a loss. What should he try to imagine? Probably the stuff he'd try on a girl, too. So maybe kissing and then some -

No. His brain violently stopped any train of thought that went down that way and provided nothing but a black and gray blur for his inner eye. He couldn't do it. Though he could feel his face was flushed and his stomach felt a little odd, his mind was absolutely blank. It was like it was physically blocked from producing any such image.

Dean groaned and let himself sink deeper into his pillow. Twenty odd years of being raised a Winchester before his dad died and he was literally brainwashed. Considering he had survived being a demon and he was more or less successfully battling the Mark of Cain, he felt like laughing. It was ridiculous he couldn't overcome his old mental barriers to figure out if he actually wanted to get into his best friend's pants.

He frowned and glared into the darkness. How was that even his life? One did not have sexual identity crises at the age of 35. Especially not while lying in bed worrying like a pathetic teenager and most definitely not over a high school musical.

Then again, normal people didn't spent their days fighting all the world's evil. Normal teenagers didn't spent their days burning ghosts and slaughtering werewolves. And normal people in their twenties didn't have to stop demons from opening up Hell and prevent the Apocalypse. They spent their time exploring the world and themselves, making experiences and discovering who they were and what they wanted.

Dean opened his eyes and took a few calming breaths. He was an adult, he could think about this rationally, and he would somehow manage to get his shit together.

Blinking into the room. he tried to remember if he had ever been attracted to a guy. He couldn't think of anyone. Sure there had been many men he'd looked up to and that could be considered his idols, but that was nothing unusual. Maybe there had also been a couple of guys who he had objectively considered good looking or even hot, but that wasn't unusual as well. People just noticed if other people were attractive no matter their gender. Chicks pointed out other good looking ones to each other all the time, didn't they? If he had actually been into one of the guys, he sure would have noticed at the time.

Dean considered that. Had he noticed anything out of the ordinary in his behavior towards them? It certainly didn't seem striking or suspicious to him at the time. Looking back, well, he might have stared after a couple of them, and if you looked at it in a certain way, some of his actions might be seen as subtle flirtation, and -

Dean squeezed his eyes shut as the realization hit him. It felt like he had just been kicked in the stomach and he sat up to bury his face in his hands. How could he have missed that? And how could random strangers have picked it up by reading a freaking book? It couldn't be that obvious. Bringing up his knees, he curled up on himself, feeling a little sick.

His life had featured many revelations up to today, including the actual existence of Heaven and Hell. Still, discovering he was indeed a little gay was one of the more surprising ones. Trust a Winchester upbringing to make that a surprise you were left to discover in your thirties.

He stared at the shape of his peacefully resting brother and tried to will down the panic that was threatening to sweep over him. This wasn't bad, he told himself. Hell, it definitely opened the door to the possibility of a whole new bunch of free drinks.

Well ,at least if there wasn't the issue of him not being able to even picture doing anything with a guy. Maybe his attraction to men wasn't all that sexual then.

Dean thought about Cas and what connected them, trying to picture him coming back to Earth for Dean after the Apocalypse, just like in that story. Except that Cas wasn't looking like a cherry pie. Dean liked that idea. He liked the idea that Cas would choose to stay with them - with him. Not because he needed to, but because he wanted to.

Dean realized that he wanted Cas to stay, to be close, to be around. Not necessarily to kiss and do that stuff people wrote about, but just to spent time in each other's presence, to laugh and fight, to watch some crappy TV and simply share things.  

It wasn't all that different form the way he felt about Sammy. Beside the fact he wouldn't mind sitting a little closer to the angel while doing those things, or hug and rest his head on his shoulder occasionally. And that was something he sure as hell didn't want to do with his brother.

His feelings weren't all that bad, Dean decided. He didn't have any sudden perverted thoughts about his friend and the way he did feel, well, he could live with that. Besides Cas was an angel and it wouldn't do to dwell on his feelings. Cas wouldn't be interested anyway, but that didn't matter. Dean felt warmth and relief flooding him at the thought that he had finally figured this out.

 

The messages continued the following day though thankfully they returned to an entirely PG context. Sam had probably been scarred for life by the mental images of his brother graphically banging their best friend and from then on resumed to sending summaries or especially funny quotes of fanfictions he found. Dean thought it was pretty annoying, but then no one seemed to give a damn lately what he thought.

_[08:12] dude the stuff about you out there isabout literally anything imaginable_   
_[08:13] they write stories about you where youre completely different people. Like football stars or college professors or high school students_   
_[08:16] you always wanted to be ballet dancer right? Now I get why those shoes were so appealing to you_   
_[08:17] “Ballet AU: Dean Winchester's life revolves purely around ballet as he is following the footsteps of his deceased mother, Mary. He's a determined young dancer and when he joins the New York City Ballet Academy, his mind in set on nothing but dancing and making a name for himself. That is until he meets his new colleague Castiel and his world is turned upside down. Dean goes to New York expecting to start a great dance carrier. Little does he know he'll find the greatest love of his life alongside.”_   
_[08:17] youd look great in a tutu. Im sure._

Dean eyed the text, wondering if he read that correctly, but no amount of staring changed what was right in front of him. If Sam hadn't made that one up, which he somehow doubted, there was a piece of fiction out there that featured him as a ballet dancer. He felt slightly bewildered about that, though not as upset as he used to. Knowing where he stood had actually taken some of the edge off. Honestly this was getting ridiculous.  He tapped into the message box and typed out a reply.

_[08:24] Dude! I do not want to read this!_   
_[08:25] but I'd look good in anything. I'd totally rock that tutu_   
_[08:28] bring coffee_

 

The day Dean Winchester finally snapped was a Tuesday. Because Tuesdays seemed to have the habit of working out for him in particularly splendid way.

He had settled into a chair in the war room, his still booting laptop placed in front of him. Nothing suspicious had happened in the last couple of days and neither were there any leads on a cure for the Mark. That left him with the rare opportunity to spend some time on leisure activities. He had contemplated working on Baby for a while. She could really do with a fresh polishing, but in the end the prospect of a quiet afternoon had been too tempting to resist. So he settled on binge watching the latest _Doctor Sexy, MD_ episodes.

Dean was looking forward to some mindless entertainment and maybe even some exploration of his newfound sexuality. If he got the hots for guys now, well then clearly Doctor Sexy would be more than inspiring. That man ought to be one to awaken any hidden desires if Dean looked for them.

The laptop dinged, indicating it had finished booting up, and when Dean turned to look at the screen, he had to violently cough and gag, nearly choking on his own saliva.

 

Where there should be a picture of a 1967 black Chevrolet Impala was now a picture of two guys. It was a painting or sketch of some sort and showed a romantic and rather intimate scene. The two were holding each other in an embrace. The taller, lighter haired one was leaning against his partner. His hand rested on the others collar bones and his head was tilted downwards looking into his eyes. They were both naked, or at least as far as Dean could see they were naked, as most of their lower halves was covered by a pair of enormous black wings, which belonged to the darker haired guy. He was pulling himself against the lighter haired one. His arms were slung around his back and his hands rested on his shoulder blades. The giant wing that sprout of his back were bent forward, as if embracing the other and meanwhile covering up both of their more private areas. They didn't reach high enough to cover the other man’s shoulder, though, and there, bluntly visible, was a bright red hand print.

They didn't have Cas and his face, but then they didn't need to. The similarity was unmistakable, and considering this was probably only based on a mere description in a book. the resemblance was rather incredible.

Dean swallowed. His throat felt thick and dry. Heat was creeping up his body again and his whole skin felt jittery. There was a distinctive tugging sensation around the area of his groin and Dean trembled.  Blindly, he reached out and slammed his laptop shut.

So much for exploring his sexuality. Maybe his attraction to men was a little sexual after all.

As the sensations wore off, his annoyance returned. He might be attracted to a certain angel but that gave no one the right to force this kind of crap onto him. Especially not his brother.

Dean clenched his fists, already getting up. He was ready to go storm into Sam's room to do a great deal of yelling and maybe throwing some more stuff at him,but then he thought of something better.

This had clearly gotten out of hand with Sammy enjoying himself just a little bit too much and he should start fighting back. Complaining hadn't done anything for him, neither had ignoring it. Two could play this game and it was time to start a counter offensive.

Dean slumped back into his chair and brought the laptop back up. He tried not to get sidetracked by the image again and quickly navigated to his browser to open up a search engine. Feeling quite clever, he typed 'supernatural sam fanfiction' and hit search.

He grinned. Surely the internet wouldn't disappoint him. There must be people out there writing stuff about his brother as well. Dean couldn't be the only inspirational character for those folks. If Sam was so keen on bringing all this crap constantly back up, well they would see who could find the worst shit and how he liked being treated with some of his own medicine.

 

After a couple of hours of research, Dean felt deflated. He was reading through his tabs feeling mildly concerned. Not only had the internet provided numerous fanfictions that featured Sam, it had also introduced Dean to the concept of shipping. Fans of the _Supernatural_ series had apparently a profound desire to imagine the protagonist to be in a relationship with each other or any secondary character that came along their way and they produced any form of creative works featuring that, which was imaginable. There were tons of stories out there, but also pictures and movies, even songs and poems. Anything that could be done, Dean was certain, probably had been done by someone in one way or the other. It would be flattering if it weren’t so focused on romantic interactions, or at least if the pairings those people came up with weren't some most disturbing things Dean had so far stumbled upon.

Some of the constellations seemed obvious, even innocent to him, like Sam and Jess or Sam and Madison. There had been visible romantic involvement in real life, so the thought that people would pair them together didn't seem too far off. It was kind of nice to look at some of them, though a little depressing because Dean knew Sam never got to have a chance to have that life with them.

Other ideas the fans had were a little more worrisome. There still seemed to be a wide fanbase that believed he and Sam were into all kinds of kinky shit with each other, completely disregarding the fact that they were _brothers._ Dean didn't feel any less disgusted about that then the last time they encountered this phenomenon and he deliberately avoided looking at any such content. No way was he going to use any of this to get back at Sammy.

There were also quite a few stories that featured Cas and Sam. Dean browsed through a selection of them trying to decide if the mental image of Castiel having sex with his brother was repulsive or arousing. Picturing Cas, who always seemed indifferent to things like sex and attraction,  interested in the act was exciting by itself, but at the thought that Sam of all people would be involved in it, Dean instantly felt a strong rush of wrongness. He contemplated whether to tease Sam about the Sastiel ship – apparently there was also a term for this – anyway. It would serve him right to get back exactly what he was giving out, but noticing the tension in his body and the way his muscles clenched, Dean decided not to. Mental images of Sam and Cas in any sexual context were not beneficial to his sanity. Better to also put this onto the list of thing he better avoid. He had barely gotten used to the knowledge he was actually into Cas. Dean didn't need the prospect of being jealous at his brother over stupid fanfiction.

Then Sam probably wouldn't even mind as much. If anything he'd probably write a whole story analysis on it, discussing the “character” development just to annoy Dean.

All the Ruby stories could probably startle Sam tough. Their dynamic seemed to have been very inspiring, judging by the amount of reading material Dean found, but nearly all of the stories were downright creepy. Based on the ratings and summaries, most of them were dark, violent, and explicitly graphic, and Dean couldn't bring himself to read any of that. He had to go through this time firsthand, and detailed descriptions of Sam fucking that demon wasn't something he ever needed in his life. Besides, with his darkness barely overcome and his current anger-management-issues, now didn't seem like a particularly good moment to think about that time again.

Better to put this on his avoid list as well.

Thankfully the internet was wide and provided countless more possibilities. By the time he heard his brother's heavy footsteps echoing through the bunker Dean had successfully identified several works of fanfiction that would sufficient his needs.

“Hey”, Sam greeted as he entered the room. His eyes quickly flicked to the laptop and then back to Dean. “What are you up to?”

“Oh a little research. Guess what I found when I turned my computer on today?”

A whiff of guilt crossed his brother’s face, but it was gone in a second. “Porn?” he said, looking smug and yeah, okay, maybe that hadn't been the worst comeback. Chances were he could have been right about that any other day.

“Well, yeah. Actually. Kind of. There was this lovely drawing of two hugging guys as my new wallpaper. Any idea how that might have gotten there?”

“Not the slightest,” Sam lied while squeezing his extraordinary long body into one of the chairs. He placed his elbows on the table, hands folded, and leaned forward. “Did you like it?”

Dean brought up an eyebrow, going for unimpressed instead of caught off guard. “Sure, Sam. Especially the naked part. Just the thing I always wanted to see.”

“Thought so. Lucky the picture found its way onto your laptop, then.” Sam seemed pleased with himself and leaned back. “So what's the research? Come up with anything interesting?”

“Yep. Heaps.” This was going to be fun: Sam actually had no idea what was coming at him. “You know, as you're enjoying it so immensely, lately I've been taking a look at the _Supernatural_ fandom. Just as you suggested.”

Dean couldn't tell what Sam thought about this because his face went completely blank for a moment.

“You did?”

“Yep.”

Sam seemed disbelieving, so Dean just shrugged and turned his laptop around to show him the open tab of one of the greater fanfiction archives he had found. Sam’s eyes flickered over the screen before resting on Dean again. There was a teasing glow to them that Dean didn't like.

“Make sure to let the fans know you officially joined the hunter husbands fanclub then. They'll be over the moon, I'm sure.” Dean rolled his eyes but Sam wasn't finished yet. “Hey you could go to their next Destiel convention. You'd probably have a shot at winning the cosplay contest!”. He laughed about his own joke, his whole giant body shaking in the chair.

“Well, aren't you freaking hilarious, Sam!”

That only made Sam laugh some more. “Yeah, I think I am. Those stories out there are cute, don't you think?”

“Yeah cute's one way to describe 'em,” Dean grumbled and turned the laptop back around, opening up the webpages he had previously saved.

“Oh, come on! You're adorable, love smitten dorks in most of them. It's actually really sweet!”

“I wouldn't know would I? It's not like I sat down to read through stories about me 'n Cas!”

Sam stared at him, his head tilted. “You didn't?”

Dean shook his head giving him a Well-obviously-look.

“Then for your information, for the most part, people are writing about how Cas deserted Heaven because he fell in love with you. It's tacky, but cute.”

“It's freaking weird! That's what it is! What is it with these people that makes them think I give out some kind of I-want-to-fuck-my-best-friend-who's-an-angel-vibes?” Dean shouted. He didn't know what else to say, beside that he would actually really like that. But not even Lucifer himself could get him to admit that right now. They weren't in some romantic chick-flick movie. This was real life.

Sam just looked at him, as if he had said something really stupid, his head was even more tilted as before.

“Sure, Dean, whatever. But in case you didn't notice, that angel literally lives in your personal space. You know I love Cas like a brother just like you do,” Dean absentmindedly nodded at the use of the word. Yes, “brother.” That was a save term to describe his feeling for Cas, “but you're definitely his favorite. People just pick up on these vibes.”

“Dammit, Sammy!” Dean yelled and slammed his fist on the table. This was _not_ going according to plan. “It’s just stupid fanfiction. So how about you just shut up?”

“But you have to adm-”

“Dude, don't force me to bring up YOUR angel."

That managed to surprise Sam, and he glared at Dean for a moment before he inquired, “My angel?”

Dean felt slightly triumphant. Clearly his brother had not been expecting this.

“Apparently I am not the only on giving off 'vibes'.” He purposely over pronounced the last word. “You have your whole own fan-club out there that imagines you having non-existent relationships with one of your Heaven's favorites.”

Sam looked alarmed and twitched nervously on his chair, which looked ridiculous due to his size. He seemed generally confused. “Oh. No, actually, what?”

“HA!” Dean smirked as he raised his hand and pointed at his confused brother. He felt deeply satisfied about being one step ahead this time. “Someone has neglected his research. Managed to miss the 'Sabriel' fan-girls didn't you?”

“Sabriel? - As in …?”

“Sam and Gabriel.”

The look on Sam's face was of suppressed horror. Countless years alongside one another had taught Dean to recognize when Sam was trying not to show his emotions and feign indifference, so he didn't miss the way Sam's features became way too exaggerated to be natural. Sam didn’t like the direction the conversation was going, which was all the more reason for Dean to head that way.

“That's – That's creative.”

“Indeed it is. And as you're that interested in fanfiction these days I took the liberty of preparing a little collection of my favorite stories so far. Shall I read some to you?”

“Sure”, Sam said, still trying to sound calm and how tolerant he was, but his posture was tense.

Dean cleared his throat and pulled the laptop closer, adjusting the display. “Well. This one is one of my favorites. I think the idea is hilarious. You're a car. ” Sam looked questioning, so Dean clarified, because that made it even funnier, “Remember that time Gabriel turned you into a car? Well, just imagine he wasn't able to turn you back. Here we go.”

“Gabriel was sitting on his hood. Which felt kind of nice, to be honest, having this bum against him. Sam had grown to really like the angel and he thought the feelings were reciprocated. There was this odd tension between them, which Sam couldn't explain. He craved the Trickster's touch, longed for the hours when they were trying to reverse the magic he worked on him, which always led to Gabriel sitting in or on him and touching all the sensitive places Sam never knew a car had. Not that he ever told the angel about that. Now Gabriel tenderly stroked along the smooth metal, letting his hand glide down further and further and -”

Sam literally jumped out of his chair. Dean was relieved there were no graspable objects near because he looked like he'd throw something at him right now. “Dude!” Sam accused. “What the hell?! That’s not even funny. That’s objectophilia! Who writes stuff like that?”

“But we haven't even reached to good part yet. This gets way intense. I mean that author, she really goes through with the whole car attraction thingy. Listen to this: 'Sam let his engine roar, which only seemed to excite the angel further. He was pressing himself against the steering wheel, furiously rubbing his hand over the center console. Sam couldn't help it. It felt too good. So he let loose and blew some air through the ventilation system and -”

“Dude that's gross!” Sam yelled and turned around.

This time he fled the room, while Dean sat back in his chair deeply satisfied. Little did he know that this had only been the beginning of a whole war that was to follow. Otherwise he might have reconsidered if starting this had really been such a good idea.

 

 

 

[ ](http://thefriendlypigeon.tumblr.com/post/149833652099/castiel-and-dean-from-supernatural-doing-destiel)

**Author's Note:**

>  ~~As I am not a native speaker myself I am sorry for everything I have messed up. I still don't have a beta. So if you’re interested in pointing out all the odd expressions I used, please let me know.~~  
>  A MASSIVE thanks to [grey2510](http://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/pseuds/grey2510), who has a kind and big enough heart to pick up stray none-native writers and who found me lost at the side of the road. She did an awesome job in tidied up this chapter by taming all the commas, eliminating awkward phrasing, discussing idioms and specific word meaning in depth and in generally Dean-ing this whole thing up a bit. It is so much better due to her.
> 
>  
> 
> General comments and kudos are still greatly appreciated.
> 
> I'm still working on the second part, but I am a very slow writer and the next update will take a while. I have most of it planned out but I still need a few funny ideas what kind of stuff the two are going to annoy each other with. If you guys have and suggestion please let me know as well. I am always open to new ideas. 
> 
> Come find me on tumblr [here](http://itsmajel.tumblr.com/).


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